light in the darkness
by Iamthebadwolf9876
Summary: Sherlock isn't coping being away from John, but being away from him had opened his eyes to who John is to him. Johnlock
1. Chapter 1

Pacing pacing, that's all I ever did. Just endless boredom. My mind skipping between different trains of thought, it was as if inside my head was a never ending commuter simply never reaching his destination. Laptop, boring. Reading, boring. Mycroft, boring. I needed something! Something! "aaahhh!"

"Sherlock?" Mrs Hudson tedious voice shouted up to me. I appreciated the watchful eye she kept over me but it could be slightly annoying.

I slumped down in my chair opposite that chair that blocked all view to the kitchen; johns chair. I had meant to move it but every time I had tried, I couldn't bring myself to do it. John john john john john!

"aaaahhhh!" I shouted again. Mrs Hudson wasn't going to stay downstairs for much longer.

My mind began to scream at me. I needed john, I needed a case, I needed something to do.

But I couldn't do that without john, my john… my …. What else was john? John was just john. I hadn't really taken to his daily, sometimes weekly trips away. They would only last for a few days, Occasionaly a week but those few days felt like an eternity.

I jumped back onto my feet. I couldn't think straight at all, everything was just a blur. I rolled my head back on my shoulders waiting for them to click, and then I pulled my hands though my slightly flattened black hair. I grabbed my phone off the table with almost over active excitement. But the thing I was looking for wasn't there, that tell-tale text from john. Nothing. I don't really know what else I was expecting to find.

When the door did eventually knock I leapt out of my chair and got to the door in a few steps. In the minute seconds it took me to contemplate opening the door I decided that I was going to tell him, I was just going to bombard john with everything! Him, me, just everything.

"John I..." but I couldn't continue, I looked down onto his face and froze. I didn't know what to do. John however found my stunned look amusing.

"Sherlock. How have you been?" He asked me. I still stood there, inanimate just staring at him. "Sher-lock?" John asked me again. I couldn't, I just couldn't talk. My mind panicked, racing through my mind palace trying to find a solution to this awkward situation. This was the first time I had ever completely frozen.

My mind began to deduct, at a crazed rate; jumper, hair, growing in moustache (not again) , bags, possibly clothing, probably clothing, coat, bit cold, john, feeling, emotion, me-

"So, are you going to let me in?" he asked, pulling me back into reality.

"Bags! Uh... sorry yes,"

"Cases. On any?"

"Boyfriends, he's run away with a milkman, murders, she's on a business trip with her boss, bit more than business…" I began to tell john what I thought of all of those cases. He made faces at every single suggestion and then sighed at my deduction.

And that's when the door knocked for the second time.

**So, this is my first johnlock one. I hope you like it, I wrote it for my friend who loves them I really hope its ok, cause I don't want the sherlockians coming down on me like a ton of bricks, I will not recover. **


	2. Chapter 2

That knock. The knock that meant a new adventure, a new case. Or it could equally be just another maid complaining about a one night stand. But whatever the outcome of that knock, it meant maybe a few more precious days with john. However I didn't try and seem to over excited, I simply sat down in my chair and 'assumed my position'; my hands pressed firmly together and placed under my chin. John was the one to open the door, greeting Greg Lestrade at the door.

"Graham!" I exclaimed, finding the look on his face hilarious. John just looked at me, slightly amused but slightly embarrassed.

"Greg! Sherlock, for the hundredth time. John how was your umm trip?" he glared at me. I one the other hand was trying not to giggle in his face.

"Yes, it was err, good-"

"He found it extremely tedious."

"Yes, thank you Sherlock"

"And he found the food disgusting."

"Ok, Sherlock! Would you like to sit do-"

"No, I don't think this is a social call, is it Lestrade?" John shot me a look that could kill and turned back to Greg.

"Actually boys, we got a tip off about a murder on the west end. Well, an uncommitted murder, they say it's going to happen it five days' time." My heart skipped a beat. At least five days with john, maybe more!

"Yes!" I jumped out of my chair, my hands still in their 'position. "We'll take it! Straight away. The game is on john!"

…

The taxi ride wasn't that long but my mind was running through hundreds of different scenarios. I was simply staring out of the window, half looking at London running past and the other half was scanning through my mind that I could relate to the west end.

"So there's over one hundred theatres in the west end, ten museums, hundreds of residents, where exactly do we start Sherlock?" john asked me, clearly paying more attention to the present than I was. "Why exactly did you take this case?"

"Bored! I don't know about you john but I'm quite looking forward to a trip out to the theatre john."

When we did eventually get to that side of London the roads were packed with people.

"Well either something's just kicked out or something's about to begin." John commented as he sighed at the hundreds of people trying busily to get to wherever they are were going.

It took a few minutes for the cab to actually stop with ought killing anyone, and when we did finally get out of said cab it took even longer to get round the flood of people trying to get into our recently vacated cab.


	3. Chapter 3

I noticed that the mad rush of people was defiantly coming from one side door. I began to run towards it, john was trailing behind, seeing the bizarre need to be polite (something I was defiantly incapable of). I quickly glanced behind and tried to tell him to hurry up, but over the crowd he didn't hear my shout. So I side stepped into the door past all of the people trying to quickly get out. Their panicked attempts to 'escape' probably meant that there were hundreds of people trying to get out. When I turned the second time john had managed to catch up with me.

"What are we doing?" he asked me, I think he was quite concerned. I gave him a completely honest answer;

"No idea. I just had a feeling."

We discovered that the people had been coming out of what looked like a side maintenance door, the hall that lead to it was a dark black brick and probably broke a million health and safety rules. But eventually we did get to another human being. Seems as it usually got us into most places and I liked seeing john trying to be formal I let him introduce us.

"Captain John Watson of the 5th Northumberland fusiliers." but the man just looked blankly at him. I was making up some excuse of why this man had to let us in when he looked up at me.

His face contorted into a mad smile and he began to madly wave at me.

"Oh my god oh my god oh my god! You're Sherlock Holmes! Aaaahh! You're so awesome! I never thought I'd ever meet you! Oh I've got a dear stalker and I love all of your cases! I've- got a shrine!" I couldn't say that I wasn't used to gay outbursts and I don't know why I wasn't expecting it; Theatreland for god's sake, but the encounter caught me completely off guard.

"Really?!"

"Can I have a signature?"

"A signature?" signature! Just a waste of time! I needed to get in, what I sis then I didn't know but I knew I needed to get it! John however was just trying to look as normal as possible.

"Ok, yes signature." I took the photo off the man and scrawled my name in the corner. I then put one arm around the man's shoulder. "Now, can you just show us to the rigging of the stage?"

"Ehehe, yes, ok." The man said, turning bright red over the fact that I had my arm around him. He led us away through the dark black corridors, which lead to the very highest row of seating. We then had an awkward shuffle through a row of seats and then through the labyrinth of back doors and doors marked with private we finally got to the rickety bars and wood that over hung the stage.

The man looked at me intently as if he was wishing me to kiss him or something along those lines. But john, thank god for john! He stood in my awkward problem.

"Thank you, I'm sure we can find our way around." John told the man, still with his affirmative snap in his voice. When the man left he continued. "So what are we doing up here?"

"well." I said, " this is the most central theatre in the street, if anything like a bomb or a gas attack was planned this would be the most substantial place to put it."

"Sherlock, Greg said it was going to be a murder." John sighed at me. I didn't want to say so but I knew he was wrong.

"I have a feeling john!" I hated shouting at him but I hated to not let him know what I was thinking, not since the fall. That horrible feeling of betraying my john. I'd never do it again.


	4. Chapter 4

To John's horror, I began to side step over the swinging wooden planks. The whole set of bars began to shake and squeak and all I could hear were John's little squeaks'. Everything inside me was screaming to go back, to put an arm around him and tell him I wasn't going anywhere, but I knew I needed to get there.

Something was over there. I could feel it, someone had been over there recently; mud had been trailed into the wood (someone had tried to wipe it off), the bars had been recently moved and there was something big behind that curtain. Something round but square. But that's when I knew I was wrong.

I was just about to reach the other side of the flat when the round-square started to move. It was as if someone was pushing the top of the thing forwards and backwards. Suddenly the plank of wood I happened to be on began to crack. I knew that I was going to fall, so I decided that I had three ways out of this; falling (not my ideal situation), jumping forwards (more likely to fall then seeing whatever was on the other side) or kneeling down and grabbing the plank (high possibility of not falling but higher possibility of injury).

The crack began to widen and I could feel the wood about to give way beneath me. I began to panic, I wanted to get over to see whatever was on the other side but I couldn't bear to have the risk of leaving John. The hideous image of John standing over that grave, those nights he never left, the days he would wish for my return. So in the flash that the wood snapped I managed to spin round and grasp onto the plank.

"SHERLOCK!" that scream was all too familiar to me. It had haunted me every time John had left the room. It terrorised my nightmares and my daydreams.

"I'm fine! John, I'm OK!" I shouted back in reply. But I knew I really wasn't. The rope that was holding me up wasn't going to hold much longer, and it was right beside the kneeling John. He was trying to pull the wood up with me on it, but that was never going to work. At best he was going to shake me off. "John look at me!" I shouted up to him.

"I can't, please Sherlock just let me save you!" he shouted back.

"John! For both our sakes just pull the rope!" I barked at him with tears in my eyes. If I fell again I don't know what he would have done, if I did survive I would have been paralysed at least and I don't think that would meant much more to John as if I had died. Both would have had the same impact.

Suddenly I felt the wood pulling up and the top feel stable again. I could just glimpse john's panicked face, pulling the rope that wasn't that heavy but he was trying so hard not to let me fall made his body look contorted and struggled. I quickly pulled and snaked myself up the plank to the hard platform that John was perched on. I heard the smash as John let go of the rope and he fell to the ground next to me.

I couldn't stand. I didn't even want to try. Although I tried to turn my head to look round at John, I still felt although I was falling. Just falling, never ending falling, suspended in mid-air and silently being dragged towards the earth by invisible chains.


	5. Chapter 5

When I did finally open my eyes John was looming over me, a look of horror and terror plastered on his face. He just stared down at me, I just wanted to wrap my arms around him but I don't think I could have moved my arms.

"Sherlock!" he yelled at me, "what the hell were you doing?"

"Ther- the- ah- john!" I tried to speak but nothing happened, my mind had gone into total over dive, I couldn't talk. One thousand and one things were just flooding through my mind. "Jo- please." My voice had broken into a deep whisper, I was breathing so deeply.

I woke again in a light hospital wing. It was painted a sterile white and I was in a room alone. I looked over and saw a yellowish white bandage strapped on my arm, I went to run my hair through my hair when I realised that a part of it was missing. A small five centimetre square had been shaven through my thick black hair. I tried to poke it but that just hurt more, like a pain that shot right down my back (conveniently where I had fallen). There was quiet but often beep that started to annoy me.

Suddenly the door burst open, I groaned knowing it was probably Mycroft coming to tell me how stupid I was and coming to insult his baby brother in hospital.

"So how are you feeling?" I smiled when I heard John's concerned voice. I immediately warmed up.

"john-" I tried to greet him but my voice let out before I could.

"You went into panic, when you um jumped. There was nothing I could do. I tried to help you, I promise. I'm so sorry Sherlock; it's like I just left you to die." He said. Close to tears. He had come over to me and was holding my un-bandaged hand against his lips.

"John. Listen to. Me, you could never. Hurt me. It's killing. Me to think. I almost left you again. Please. I'll never leave you." I had to pause for breath so many times that it became slightly annoying but I had to tell him. I loved him; that would never end. It was like an infection. Spreading through me like a fire, igniting all the flames that had been extinguished inside me.

But then, of all times, my bloody doctor waltzed in on us. If I could shout then the insults that I would have thrown at him would have been tremendous! However John being John stood up and greeted him with that universal handshake that I presume all doctors do to each other.

"So Mr .Holmes, how ar-" he began but I knew exactly what was coming.

"Yes! Yes! Were all fine in here! I'm feeling fine, apart from the fact that you've shaved half my hair off!" I half yelled half breathed at the doctor (but only because I couldn't breathe).

"Well Mr Holmes. Your results all check out so you're going home today, but I want you to watch your breathing and your lungs! No smoking! Whatsoever!" he ordered me. At least I could go back to Baker Street. My little flat, with my little chair and my John. Back with my John. Never mind whatever Greg wants me to do, I'm not leaving John.


End file.
